Nerves
by FortuitousCow
Summary: Peter felt exposed as he rode by himself to the top of the building. His nerves jumped with every subtle rise in the soothing music, or even when nothing changed at all. His instincts shouted at him that these walls would close in any second, or conversely, that everything would fall out of existence around him and he would be floating in darkness.


The journey from the bus Peter was riding to the penthouse suite located in downtown Manhattan was a blur. Tony had said he would be staying there for the next several weeks if Peter needed him. Though Peter had hopped at least three separate trains, pissed off two bus drivers, and forgotten to tip a very harried cab driver, he was barely aware of the time that went by.

He stumbled down the final block towards the large building on the corner. It was the kind of place where people rented out entire floors. Peter lurched up the marble steps to the sliding glass doors, where stood a doorman in an immaculate blue uniform. His eyes widened at Peter's appearance, and he raised a palm as the boy pushed past him.

"Son...son, you can't go in there!"

But the doors had parted way for him and Peter ran into the grand lobby. Crystalline fixtures on walls and around women's necks seemed to taunt him with their fragility. His nerves were running up and down under his skin like frenzied insects. He felt like he could jump a mile straight up. Several security guards scattered through the lobby seemed to sniff him out immediately. Peter ducked his head, and tried to make his way quickly but discreetly towards the elevators. A few of the guards were clocking his steps, and one even sent a look of urgency to his companion. Peter sprinted the last few yards into the elevator just as the doors were closing. The people inside gave startled cries as he slid into their group.

The elevator dinged and started rising, classical music playing over the speakers. Elevator music, apparently, was something rich people still enjoyed. The elevator seemed to move agonizingly slowly. Peter managed to localize the electricity in his body to his feet and fingers, which twitched incessantly. He received many more suspicious glances.

One by one, people exited onto their floors. Peter kept expecting to see guards running towards the elevator down the red-carpeted hallways, but none did. Finally, the last man to get off gave Peter a very troubled look indeed as he exited the elevator, for there was only one more place to go, and that was the very top floor.

Everyone knew that was where Tony Stark and his fiancee Pepper Potts were staying to get some peace and quiet.

Peter felt exposed as he rode by himself to the top of the building. His nerves jumped with every subtle rise in the soothing music, or even when nothing changed at all. His instincts shouted at him that these walls would close in any second, or conversely, that everything would fall out of existence around him and he would be floating in darkness.

Just as the old-fashioned meter started to switch its arrow from floor 39 to floor 40, the elevator stopped; the lights went out and the music died. Peter held his breath like his life depended on it.

A little panel opened up, and a thin beam of blue light shot out from the doors in front of him. It scanned up and down his eyes, and a female voice declared,

"Peter Parker. Entrance authorized."

The doors of the elevator slid open, but Peter squeezed himself through before they had barely cracked. He stumbled into an enormous penthouse suite that was furnished to look very modern and expensive. The effect was dulled somewhat by the presence of half-emptied luggage scattered around the living area. A lacey bra was draped over a 72-inch screen.

"Hello? Is someone...oh, you must be Peter." A lovely red-head walked out of a warmly lit kitchen doorway in faded capris and a yellow blouse. She smiled welcomingly, but her expression quickly altered as Peter spun in a rapid circle, breathing harshly.

"Where's Mr. Stark?"

"In the shower. We weren't expecting you. Is something wrong?" She had wide, intelligent eyes that flashed with the concern that could only come from experience with world-ending material. Peter was struck with how waifish and vulnerable she looked, and how the walls around him might as well be eggshells. He gasped for air, grabbing his head, as though that could stop the alarm bells ringing inside of it.

Ms. Potts began to circle in front of him. Her face was of deep concern, but she kept a smart distance.

"I'll go get Tony."

"No need." A familiar voice interjected. Mr. Stark entered the room from another door. His hair was wet, and he wore his customary black shirt. His sharp eyes scanned every inch of Peter as he walked in the boy's direction.

"What's going on here, Pete? You seem a little keyed up."

"Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark, we have to do something."

"Okay…"

"We have to get out of here, or-or we have to...we have to stop it."

"Stop what, Underoos? You're scaring me a bit here."

Peter's body shook with a tremor of panic and he started breathing fast, his legs getting weak. His head filled with static. Tony caught him on his way to the floor.

"Pepper."

"Ambulance, right." Bare feet ran from the room.

"Hey, Peter, you have to take a breath, okay? I've been right where you are. I promise the air is still there."

"No, no, no, something's coming Mr. Stark. It's coming fast. You gotta believe me."

"Okay, okay, I believe you. Alright. How do you know?" Tony was gripping Peter as if he might fly apart. He searched his face with concern.

"I can feel it. I can feel it right by me. It's-it's like I'm falling, and I know the ground's getting closer. I can't explain it, but I know that something bad's coming. Something really bad." A rush of adrenaline bombarded Peter, and every inch of him screamed to get out of the way. But, when he jumped up and scrambled backward, nothing happened. Peter grit his teeth, and wrapped his arms around himself.

Tony seemed to appear behind him, and was pushing Peter by the shoulders.

"Okay, couch. Now."

"No!" Peter wrenched out of Tony's grasp and ran to the wall. Tony's face went pale, lips pursing.

"Okay, kid. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Just don't touch me," Peter warned, a flash of guilt accompanying the look that crossed Tony's face.

"What's going on?" Ms. Potts hurried into the room, a glass of water sloshing in her hands. Peter's eyes widened as she stumbled.

The glass was falling. Ms. Potts' foot was sliding deeper under the carpet. Tony's arm was reaching out. It wasn't slow motion, but Peter could _feel_ all of this. Little lightning bolts were covering his skin.

The glass shattered on the ground. Ms. Potts landed on her knee, wincing. Tony started towards her. But, as he did, the whole apartment rumbled. Peter caught a glimpse through the window of a bright cloud exploding into existence in the sky. His heart tore into a gallop. Quite suddenly, his strength was sucked into the floor. Peter could almost hear the "whoosh".

"Mr. Stark," he said, as the ceiling slid into view, and everything went black.

…

It all began seven years ago. A news site was covering the attack on Stark Expo while Tony made himself a sandwich. It caught his attention when they cut to a tearful woman and a small boy with an Iron Man helmet sitting on his head. Bright blue eyes beamed excitement as he grinned, a contrast to the shaking hands on his shoulders. The headline read: " _Close shave for May Parker and her nephew gets happy ending because of Iron Man_ ".

"We're so grateful to Mr. Stark," the woman blubbered. She was very attractive, Tony noted, even with swollen eyes, "I might not approve of the man most of the time, but he saved Peter tonight. I don't know what I would have done…" she shook her head, lost for words. Luckily, the boy piped up with a voice sharp like a flute,

"It was the mounted concussion-burst cannons!" he said, 8 year-old voice stumbling over the words, "He was like-zap! And then he was like, 'Nice job, kid!'"

Tony chuckled and took a huge bite out of his sandwich.

"Peter, is there anything you would like to say to Iron Man, if he were watching right now?" the interviewer asked off-camera, but the boy was barely stunted,

"I came to the Expo to see Mr. Stark, and he was right next to me! The armor is sooooo much bigger than I thought, and I could see the arc reactor up close. Did you know that it's blue because infrared signatures..." the boy continued on against the sighs of his exasperated, but obviously relieved aunt, until the interviewer gave up and cut back to the main hosts.

Tony laughed and took his sandwich back to the lab. He assumed he wouldn't think about it again. But something stuck with him, even as he busied himself with repairs to Rhodey's armor. The kid had said he came to the Expo to see "Mr. Stark", not Iron Man.

The rest felt curiously out of Tony's hands. Little did he know that that night he would be casually looking up the names May and Peter Parker, and find himself quite absorbed with this kid who somehow had known so much about the Iron Man suit. He scrolled through pictures of 1st place ribbons in science fairs, and local papers with badly written columns about the modest family from Queens, particularly milking the 'parents died at early age' angle, strangely ignoring the gap-toothed grinning boy standing in front of his proud aunt and uncle in an apartment that looked far too small.

Tony munched on his fourth or fifth sandwich of the day, recalling what it had been like to lose his parents at 19, and wondering what it would feel like when you're 5 years old.

As the years passed, he kept loose tabs on the kid who had raised his hand against a giant robot instead of running in the other direction. He watched grades steadily climb (except in P.E.), suspension slips occasionally filter in with words like 'got in a fight', which Tony translated to 'got beat up'. More first place ribbons, more science projects, an acceptance into a pretty renowned public high school in East Queens. As Tony watched, occasionally checking in, turning his gaze for months at a time, saving the world a few times, the kid grew up.

And then, one day, tragedy. Tony saw the story on the news before it hit the papers: "Local Queens Electrician, Benjamin Parker, Shot and Killed."

Quietly, Tony backfilled their account with enough money to pay for the funeral, and a little extra, and made it look like Ben Parker had put away some savings before he died. The day of the funeral, Tony felt a little strange staying home.

From then on, his one watchful eye on Peter Parker became two. He had lost his father for the second time, and there would be no justice in the universe if a good kid like him didn't make it. Tony asked the dean of the high school to be monitoring Peter very closely, as he was considering him for a grant. The dean, of course, was extremely accommodating, especially after Tony "donated" to his next campaign. This provided him with regular updates about Peter's health, his grades, his behavior in school. The kid was sad. Obviously. But, doing better than expected. The dean did mention that Peter was sometimes missing his after-school activities, such as his scholastic pursuits. Though, he did spend an awful lot of time in the school lab.

Then, Spider-Man hit the internet. Tony had his suspicions from the first video he saw. Peter had recently been on a trip to Osbourne Industries, but was curiously absent for most of it, apparently.

However, he wasn't sure. Not until a few months before the incident with Wanda. A video surfaced of Peter carrying a little girl out of a tree. The mother was waiting below, looking slightly amused.

"It's okay, I've got you. I can't fly like Iron Man, but I'm very good at landing."

Tony would recognize that sharp voice anywhere. Next thing he knew, he was in the kid's apartment, offering him an upgrade, still quietly impressed by everything he saw. The rest was recent history.

Now, Tony stood in his highly specialized apartment that he had outfitted with a dozen security systems so he could have one week alone with Pepper, staring at the kid who he had given a key to. Peter was sweating all over, and the panic was evident in his every movement. A tightness was squeezing Tony's chest as he held up his hands non-threateningly.

"Don't touch me," Peter said, and the words fell over Tony like ice cold water. This wasn't good. And it was too familiar.

Just then, Pepper came back in the room. It all happened quickly. She tripped, and Tony ran to her. Then, the explosion in the sky. Tony's eyes were dazzled by the burst of light. Through spotty vision, he saw a large cloud forming, unnatural and a sickly pallor of orange. Little tongues of lightning lit up the cloud from within.

"Jesus…" Pepper uncharacteristically swore.

"Mr. Stark…"

Tony heard a loud thump, and before he even turned around, his heart was in his throat. He whipped his head to see Peter prostrate on the floor, his arm twisted beneath him. Tony choked on nothing, and dashed forward.

"Kid. Hey, kid. Don't do this. Peter? Can you hear me?" Tony could barely hear his own voice through the loud thumping in his head. Breathing quickly, he rolled Peter onto his back, and saw that there was no color in his face. A cold grew in Tony's chest. Pepper knelt next to them, placing two fingers delicately on Peter's throat.

"His pulse is strong," she assured, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder as he breathed out. "Let's call Baer."

Tony peered back through the window at the roiling cloud in the sky.

"We're going to need to do more than that."

...

Doctor Brennan Baer had been hired by Tony Stark to be "the guy who patches us up". With multiple doctorates in medical science, and over twenty years of experience in both emergency surgery and cutting-edge medical research, Baer became aware of a job advertisement discreetly making its way through the ranks of renowned doctors across the globe. The advertisement had read as such:

"Our former big, green chief of medicine is off gallivanting in Spain somewhere, no doubt. Wanted: someone who can perform life-saving surgery under pressure, and also possibly under gunfire. Warm, brown eyes are not required, but preferred. If you're wondering about the pay, please don't bother to apply, you obviously don't know how to read very well and didn't see the name Stark at the top of this page. Sincerely, your humble servant.

-Boss Man"

Baer was sure that thousands of applications would be sent in, and he didn't stand a chance, especially as a member of the Soviet Union. But, at that particular moment in time, his ex-wife was moving back into town and Baer had just received a pay decrease due to government cut-backs. He sent his resume, not expecting to hear back, with a little essay on the bottom about how he didn't really approve of the Avengers, but much admired Bruce Banner's work in gamma radiation.

A week later, Stark Industries appeared across his laptop screen, followed by a goateed, grinning face.

"You hacked me!" Baer cried.

"I'm interviewing you," Mr. Stark had replied, "Now, how attached are you to sleep?"

Now that Baer thought about it, he couldn't remember ever explicitly saying he would take the job, but he could remember a helicopter lowering onto his lawn not a few weeks later with Iron Man lounging inside, a hand across his ribs, waving amicably.

In the present, Baer sighed and took off his glasses. Damn microscopes were such a pain. He wondered when someone would finally invent one that was near-sighted friendly. He peered through the lenses, adjusting focus. The blood cells became crisp and clear, swimming about and doing their normal blood cell thing. Well, mostly normal. There were deviances, ones that Baer had seen before from other samples. Stark had sent him a large shipment not long after his hire. The Spider-boy's had been among them.

Stumped, he leaned back in his chair, but was startled by a groan behind him. He swivelled on his swivel chair towards the Spider-boy, Peter, who lay in a cot against the wall. The jet was not ideal for doctoring, especially with turbulence, but it had comfortable beds. The boy, mouth agape, hair mussed, could have been sleeping normally in his own home. He was even snoring a little.

Baer unnecessarily pinched his own nose, and swivelled back to the microscope. He had to find out what was going on. He had never seen Stark that serious before. He might be out of a job otherwise.

…

Pepper did not bother to hide that she was watching Tony as he sat across from her, hands folded across his mouth, staring at nothing in particular as clouds rolled by through the plane window behind him.

"He's going to be okay," she informed him, keeping her voice somewhat gentle. Tony's eyes snapped up to her. There was a hesitation, then he hissed in a breath and slapped his knees,

"Of course he is. Kid's stronger than most people. Hell, stronger than me. I'm not worried about him," Tony stood up, paced for a few moments. He seemed to think of something, then turned back around and popped open a bottle of whiskey at the mini-bar. Pepper barely contained a roll of her eyes.

Tony sipped from a crystal glass and jabbed two fingers at the window, back towards New York,

"It's that wonder of nature back there that has me worried."

"Do you think it's Loki?" Pepper asked, her mouth curdling in memory of the slimey god.

"No." Tony shook his head. "No, Thor wouldn't let him go again. This is something else." His eyes unfocused in the way that let Pepper know he was solving a problem. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward on them,

"Maybe, that's what Peter was talking about." She remembered his eyes, spinning about the apartment as though in search of something. "He seemed really spooked. Maybe, he knew it was coming."

"Precognition. Not a typical power one might expect a spider to have." Tony finished off his glass and turned back to refill it, but Pepper stood up and placed her hand over his. He looked into her eyes. His own could never hide anything from her.

"No," she said, gently pushing him away and capping the whiskey, "But, maybe it's something else. Like, the way a spider runs away before you can hit it with your shoe."

Tony nodded, a thousand lines in his face. Pepper smiled, and placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into it.

"Mr. Stark?" An accented voice hesitantly interrupted them.

Dr. Baer stood in the doorway between the main fuselage of the plane and the back room.

"He's awake."

…

Tony swaggered toward the cot where Peter lay and plopped down on the end of the mattress. He shoved Peter back down just as the boy was starting to sit up.

"Not so fast, Carrie White."

Peter blinked in confusion.

"Wha…"

"Last time I let you stand up in front of me, you collapsed right back down."

Peter swallowed, red climbing up his cheeks. He glanced at Pepper, who gave him an understanding smile. He looked dazed, and a little tired. But the color was back in his face, the frightening paleness from before faded away. Pepper could see the relief in Tony's shoulders.

"What do you remember?" The billionaire asked.

Peter shrugged.

"I mean, all of it. But it's weird, it almost feels like a dream."

"Well, it wasn't. Something was definitely happening to you. And, I think I have a theory."

Both Pepper and Peter raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"I think your spidey-sense was tingling."

Peter laughed out loud, looking between the both of them. Pepper stared at Tony incredulously.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you knew that thing in the sky was coming," Tony explained, "I think it's something new you're going to deal with. Knowing when things are about to happen."

"What, like, I'll be able to see into the future?"

It was Tony's turn to laugh, as he clamped a hand on Peter's leg.

"Maybe," he said, suddenly sober. Peter looked pale again. Then Tony smiled. "Kidding. No, of course not. Leave that to Vision. This is more like an instinct. A gut feeling, times 1000."

Peter's brow creased thoughtfully. Pepper inexplicably had the sensation she was looking at a young version of Tony.

The plane shook. Pepper lost her balance and grabbed the counter where Baer's equipment lay. She and Tony shared a look of alarm.

"Mr. Stark!" Baer yelled from the doorway. Pepper hadn't seen him appear. "You have to come look!"

Tony stood up and ran out, squeezing Peter's shoulder on the way.

"Stay here."

Pepper followed him. She ran to the nearest window and looked out, just as the plane lurched violently. She fell hard against one of the seats, then raised her head. But, she couldn't see anything. The view was shrouded in an orange smoke.

"It followed us!" she exclaimed. Just then, a bright light flashed outside, followed by a sound like the crack of thunder, but more terrible. Once again, the plane rumbled violently. Pepper grabbed the nearest chair to steady herself, as Tony ran to the locker across the aisle where his Iron Man suit was stored.

But as his hand closed over the handle, Pepper felt an unmistakable clenching of her stomach. Against her will, her feet started sliding out from under her. She clutched the chair, fingers turning white, as the nose of the plane dipped downward. Tony's shoes fought against the tilting floor as he tried to input the code to open the locker.

"Tony," Pepper warned, as Baer, desperately struggling not to lose his hold on the windowsill, began to lose his grip. They were all hanging now, feet dangling, starting to float as alarms blared, as the plane dove towards the earth.

Fear rolled through Pepper, just as she heard the fast whip of something flying by her head. She looked up to see a circle of web attached near the cockpit.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter cried, holding onto a string of web with all his strength. Slowly, he lifted one hand off of the web, and pointed it towards Tony.

Baer was screaming. The shrill whistle of wind buffeted the plane. Everything was shaking. Black closed around the edges of Pepper's vision.

...

A soft crackling woke Tony almost gently. His eyes fluttered open, to a world of flickering orange flames and shadow. He breathed in acrid smoke. His eyes gushed tears, as pain encompassed him. He knew this feeling, he had experienced it before. He just had to wait. A few more breaths.

Slowly, things cleared. The shadows formed into real shapes. He could see the white outlines of the scattered wreckage around him, twisted metal burning bright in the heat from small fires.

Tony tried to remember, panic climbing up his throat the longer blankness greeted him. Gingerly, he lifted his hand. No glove. He hadn't made it to the suit. So, what had happened?

"Tony?" a soft voice managed to pierce the din of wind and flames. His eyes jumped up to see a figure crawling towards him, face scared and pale.

"Pepper," Tony pushed himself up to a seated position, and pulled her against him. They sat amidst the remains of their jet, breathing each other in. As Tony held her, memories flooded in as if she had opened a gate.

"Baer's dead," Pepper cried, shaking, as if she had read Tony's thoughts, "I woke up. He was next to me. He…"

"Okay," Tony said, trying to keep himself calm. "Okay. Did you see Peter?"

She shook her head, eyes wide.

"I think he did something," she explained, "I woke up. There was webbing on me. I'm not injured."

Tony, suddenly realizing something, looked down at himself.

"Neither am I."

Just then, they heard something in the distance, what sounded like the wail of breaking metal. And then, a voice crying out.

Tony and Pepper shared a look of recognition, then they hoisted themselves up, and stumbled toward the sound. Tony had been wrong about not being injured. His right ankle flared with pain, and he half-hopped his way through the burning wreckage. There was snow between the broken pieces of the jet. They must have landed on a mountain somewhere in Southeastern Canada.

"Peter!" Tony shouted, his voice floating back to hit his own face, useless against the wind. "Kid, can you hear me?"

"Peter!" Pepper echoed. Again, they heard a voice pierce the air around them. But this time, it sounded as though it were in pain. Tony's heart sank straight to his feet. The way it had when he watched Rhodey hit the ground, when Killian showed him Pepper's screams.

They quickly rounded a bend, what looked like the wing of the plane shimmering near their faces, to find something far worse than what Tony had hoped. Peter was pinned under burning wreckage, an oily rudder cracked in half and laid over his chest, pluming black smoke into the sky. Peter's face was bloody and singed, his hands desperately pushing against the obstruction, whimpering in pain.

"Help!" he screamed, voice cracking. Tony ran forward, ignoring the brilliant pain that shot up his leg, and fell by Peter's side.

"I'm here. I'm here, kid. You're okay. I've got you."

"M-Mr. Stark," Peter coughed, "The doc...I couldn't-I tried to get him, too. But I didn't have enough web…" He gagged on a wave of agony, blood shining on his lips.

"It's okay, Peter," Tony said, shaking his head emphatically, "It's okay, you did what you could. You saved us."

"He-He was screaming," Tears rolled down the sides of his head, into hair that was matted with oil.

"Pete," Tony insisted, "I know it hurts, kid. But I need you to focus. I need to get you out from under this thing. Pepper." Tony looked over his shoulder. His wife was pale and fragile-looking, but there was determination in her eyes. Tony's own heart was thundering in his head. He fought panic like buzzing static on the edges of his brain.

"Go find the cockpit. The black-box should be inside, make sure the red light's blinking. If not, talk to the computer. Activate Rescue Protocol 1. Got it?"

She nodded, and raced through the snow back to the wreckage.

Tony felt a pressure on his arm. He looked down to see Peter's hand on him.

"I-I can't lift it, Mr. Stark. The fuel...it's going to e-explode. Get Pepper-"

"Geez, kid, if I knew you were going to say something stupid, I would've told you to save your strength." Tony shook off his hand, and stood up. Coming around behind Peter, he wrapped his hands under the rudder and pulled. Peter added his own strength. But, the rudder barely lifted an inch. Tony fell against the snow, head spinning from the smoke. The kid was right. There was no way they were getting this off. Unless…

"Wait here," Tony stood and jogged off, ignoring Peter's weak cry.

"Mr. Stark, please, just go."

"I'll be back."

It took longer than he wanted. Tony could feel the hand of time falling down on him as he desperately searched the rubble. Problem was, everything was either obscured with fire, smoke or snow. He could barely recognize parts of the plane, let alone the locker he needed to find. At one point, he spotted a wing-tipped shoe poking out from behind a smashed hull. Tony looked away, not wanting to see Baer's body.

Finally, finally just as real despair was starting to set in, Tony spotted the shiny corner of the locker. He traipsed towards it, legs heavy and numb in the snow, and inputted the code. With a bell-like sound, the door popped open, but only partly, being half-buried. Tony wrenched it the rest of the way, yelling as his leg twisted with pain. But, there it was.

"Come to papa."

Tony returned to the rudder as Iron Man, floating over the snow instead of trudging through it. The boots were damaged, however. He could manage a few feet of the ground, but flying wasn't an option.

Pepper was by Peter's side, stroking his hair and speaking softly. The kid looked as white as the mountainside. His eyes raised dully toward Tony.

"Told you I'd be back." said Tony

"Black box wasn't there," Pepper informed, "I activated the rescue protocol. What does it mean?"

"You'll see," Tony landed right next to the rudder, "Get out of the way, Honey, this is gonna take some power."

Pepper obediently stood and walked away, though she hesitated, looking as though she wanted to give Peter a kiss on the head.

"Mr. Stark…" the kid's voice was faint. Tony could see the blood on his face, but didn't know what other injuries could be underneath that damn rudder. They had to get him out, now.

"Don't talk, kid," Tony instructed, "Just sit back. I got this." His voice was steady, and slightly robotic, the way the helmet always made him sound. Inside, he was just a soft, vulnerable man whose stomach clenched with worry the way Peter's eyes were fluttering.

"Alright, here we go." Again, Tony situated himself behind the rudder, and grasped it underneath. This time, he diverted power to the gloves, and was graced with the strength of his armor. "1-2-3."

Slowly, carefully, he lifted the rudder off of Peter, blue energy bursting from the knuckles of his gloves.

"Pepper!" he shouted, and without missing a beat, the woman ran forward and grabbed Peter under the armpits, dragging him free of the wreckage. Tony noted the red snow, and then dropped the rudder. It groaned and sunk farther into the ground.

Almost on cue, there was an explosion to their left. Pepper and Tony were both thrown to the snow. Fire bloomed upward with an angry roar.

Recovering quickly, Tony scrambled to his feet and picked up Peter bridal style.

"Let's go." The three of them ran away from the wreckage of the plane, as black smoke choked away the night sky.

...

With the Iron Man suit, it was fairly easy to make a shelter. Tony used the lasers from his gloves to carve a cave out of the mountainside, with hardened ice walls. He then sealed the entrance with more snow, leaving a small hole for air to filter in. Tony got out of his suit, leaving the arc reactor chamber open and pulsing to fill their small space with warmth. He also turned on the homing beacon, that he knew would ensure the success of Rescue Protocol 1.

Peter was still conscious. Tony didn't know whether this was a good thing, or a bad thing. For one, the kid was in a lot of pain. And that was definitely not good. As soon as they were situated in the shelter, Tony knelt by Peter's side, and took off his own jacket to form a pillow. Peter winced as Tony lifted his head, and placed it underneath.

"Hey, kid. I need to tell you something about the Avengers, okay? And if you can't get it through your head, there's no way I'm letting you into our crew, you got it?"

Peter looked at him, eyes wide and red. He seemed as though he wasn't really sure that Tony was there. Tony smiled, and swallowed past a large lump in his throat.

"We never leave a man behind, okay? Especially a man whose barely a man. If you ever ask me to beat it again, I will personally make sure you never wear the suit, because there is no honor in dying. You hear me?"

Peter nodded, but barely. Maybe, Tony even imagined it. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, and knew it was time to get to work. Carefully, he lifted Peter's shirt, peeling it away from cold blood that had stuck to him. Peter keened, his hand jumping up, it was one of the saddest sounds Tony had ever heard. He grit his teeth.

Without being asked, Pepper crawled over and placed a hand Peter's shoulder.

"Shh. It's okay. We've got you. You're safe now."

The words landed empty even on Tony's ears, yet he desperately wanted to believe them.

"You saved us, you know," Pepper informed Peter, smiling down at him. The kid was watching her with a dumb fascination that was almost child-like. "We would be dead right now if it wasn't for you."

He could have webbed himself up, Tony thought. He could have saved himself first, but he didn't. The realization was painful as Tony got a look at the wounds on Peter's abdomen. He was no doctor, but even he knew this wasn't good. The kid was torn up. Bad.

Tony sniffed and wiped his face, wet with oil and snow.

"Uh, Pepper. We need to clean this somehow."

She nodded. As he looked into her eyes, so full of color and life compared to the place they were in, they seemed to share the same thought.

This was going to be a long night.

...

"May...May…"

Tony snapped awake, his hands clenching on soft fabric. He looked down into his lap, where a brown head of hair lay.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't...I didn't mean to do it."

Soft sobs shook Peter's body. Tony's mouth fell open, and he released a shuddering breath.

"Kid, it's okay. I'm here."

"The-the…" Peter shook his head, "The ferry. I didn't mean to…"

Tony pursed his lips. Raising one hand, he carded it through Peter's hair, and made soothing sounds. It took awhile, but eventually the kid fell back asleep. Or back to unconsciousness. Both were equally frightening.

Tony had been here before. With Pepper, with Rhodey. Holding someone and praying to a God he didn't believe in that somehow they would be okay. This seemed to happen to him too much. He brought people into his life, he gave them everything possible to protect them, and somehow, they were hurt all the same.

But, this was Peter. This was a 15-year old kid from Queens with an aunt who worries, with friends who would never recover. He had barely experienced anything yet. But because of Tony, he had experienced pain, war, death, loss. He had watched his uncle die. The kid should be afraid to even step out his front door. Instead, he would take a bullet for a stranger. He would fly to Germany to battle superheroes just because Tony asked him.

If Peter didn't make it tonight, Tony would never forgive himself.

...

When help came, it came too quickly to even feel relief. The sound of helicopter wings pounding outside their shelter woke Tony up. Paramedics and rescue chopped through the snow to reach them. Peter was ripped from Tony's arms before he could even find out if the kid was still breathing.

They were draped in blankets, hoisted from the snow. Tony tried to tell them about Baer's body in the wreckage, but it may or may not have been out loud. Pepper and Tony were piled into a helicopter and flown away as they were still strapping Peter to a gurney. Tony watched helplessly as the scene shrunk into the distance.

...

2 Weeks Later

Tony knocked gently on the dark wooden door. It was already partially open. He could see a mane of brown hair draped over Peter's stomach.

Mrs. Parker raised herself up, sniffing, blinking, and looked toward Tony. Her expression darkened. But, only slightly. It was about a 1000 times better than when he had first seen her two weeks ago. Tony's cheek was still sore from the slap she had landed there. Twice.

They would all be sore for awhile. Especially Peter. If he ever woke up…

"Hey," said Tony, walking into the room after he was sure May wasn't about to call for security. She watched him with the shrewdness of something wild, like a tiger guarding her cubs.

"May I sit down?"

She hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. Tony pulled over a chair, and sat down on the other side of Peter's bed. The bruises on his face were almost gone. The kid had an advanced healing factor that had definitely saved his life. They had brought him back twice on the table. Or, that's what Tony had been told.

Peter looked as young as he really was, lying there. A strange tenderness came over Tony. He resisted the urge to pet the kid's head, lest his hand get bitten off. May was still watching him.

They sat that way for awhile.

"I know I already apologized to you," said Tony, finally. "I know it doesn't really mean anything. I almost got your boy killed. What's an apology next to that?"

Tony rubbed his eyes. A headache had bloomed there two weeks ago when he heard the word "coma" and it hadn't gone away since.

"This...is trending in my life. I thought I had fixed it, or could fix it. I let a part of me take over that takes over when things are going good for awhile. And, I was proud. Proud of him." Tony nodded in Peter's direction. May said nothing.

"I wanted Peter in my life. It was selfish. In my experience, good things don't happen to the people I care about," he paused, swallowed. His voice had wavered. After a few moments, he breathed in.

"I should have known better. I won't bother you again."

Tony stood, buttoned his jacket, gave May a nod, and turned to leave. But as his hand rested on the handle,

"Wow. I was right. You are an arrogant ass."

Tony froze.

"You think you have control? You think you have control over anybody?"

A chair squeaked. Tony turned back around, and May was standing her arms crossed, glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

"You think you can control him?" she gestured at Peter, "I've been trying to keep this boy out of the fire since he was four years old. I knew from the day he could walk that I was in big trouble. But I also knew I wouldn't be able to stop him. From doing anything. You walk away now, when he wakes up, he will follow you. And he will break his arms and legs doing it."

Tony swallowed. He was fighting a burning in his face, his eyes, his throat. The heat of emotion was climbing up his body, from where he had been burying it for two weeks.

"You don't get the easy way out, pal. You're in this, just like me. Whether Peter is lying in a bed, or flying through the air, you are going to be there. Because that's what having a kid is all about. Do you understand me?"

In an involuntary way that he hadn't experienced since his mom was alive, Tony nodded rapidly. He cleared his throat, and somehow a sob broke through. Before he knew it, May's arms were around him, and they were holding each other, nurse and billionaire, tethered to each other over the same beating heart of the kid lying next to them.

...

It was that very same night, when May had left to grab coffees, that Tony heard a small voice draw him from a numb worry.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony looked over to see blue eyes squinting at him. He grinned hugely, and grasped the kid's hand, which was already open waiting for him.

"Welcome back, kiddo."


End file.
